


Childish Things

by clutzycricket



Series: Little Earthquakes [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Crossover, First War with Voldemort, Gen, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, POV Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-06 08:28:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1851343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clutzycricket/pseuds/clutzycricket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few weeks before the end of the First War, a girl plays eavesdropper and nearly gets caught. (Thankfully, Lily Potter seems to find this more amusing than anything.)</p><p>Or, how Rhaenys Targaryen left the wizarding world and found her way back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ghosts in Dragonstone

No one really paid attention to Rhaenys right now. In other times, this probably would have bothered the girl, but right now? She was kind of grateful. Mostly because being unnoticed meant she could find out all the good stuff, since Dany and Aunt Mel were watching baby Harry, who was kind of adorable, but mostly gassy.

So the not-quite-ten-year-old had taken to exploring the secret passages, and she  _might_  have found a secret passage that let her spy on the Order meetings. And she  _might_  not have pointed this out to her parents. 

But she also didn’t point it out to Viserys, who was already at Hogwarts anyway and being a stupid boy thought he was too old to explore with his niece anymore. So she was being responsible, like she was supposed to. And it wasn't as if she was allowed to leave Dragonstone anymore.

So she listened in, because Sarella promised to keep Aunt Mel distracted if she started doubting that Rhaenys was devouring the library with her eyes as long as Rhaenys told her cousin the interesting bits later.

Which… Rhae wasn’t stupid. She didn’t tell Sarella about some of the stuff they really, really weren’t supposed to know, like names. She made up codenames sometimes, when she needed to, out of books or songs, because it was fun and really,  _had none of these people read a book_? Really, she had heard her parents and the Uncles talking about there being a spy in the Order. Rhaenys wasn’t technically old enough for a wand, and she knew all the interesting stories, or at least the ones she could get her hands on.

Right now they were talking about a family that went missing, and Rhaenys kind of wished she wasn’t listening to it, but not paying attention didn’t mean that the bad stuff didn’t happen, as Mum liked to say, so…

A bit later she realized she might have drifted off in a rant about super secret organizations that weren’t very good about the secret bit and realized the adults were leaving, and her parents were going to start looking for her soon. 

She dashed off, feet cold against the stone (because her boots made too much noise, and the dust ruined her socks), and made it out into the old workshop that had another passageway that led to the library. (Which had its own set of passageways, including the one under her bed she used as a space to try spells when she was meant to be asleep.)

She had managed to get her shoes back on and move the tapestry over the entrance when the workshop door opened and Lily Potter came in.

"Oh- Rhaenys, right?" she asked, tucking her red hair behind her ears. 

Rhaenys nodded, painfully aware that there was dust on her clothes and hair from her quicker than normal trip through the passages. And that she was in what she was fairly sure was the Bloodraven’s old workshop. Also that the old wand she’d found in here was sticking out of her pocket. She wasn’t very good with it  _yet_ , but it worked better than the others she’d tried.

(She didn’t think it was Bloodraven’s, but the careful stars-and-waves motif on the handle gave her a good idea who had owned it first.)

"Your dad said there might be some old workbooks in here, and I need them for research purposes," the older witch explained, and Rhaenys wondered what sort of research it would be. Because she hadn’t heard anything about it in the meeting, but she hadn’t been paying attention at the end…

"There are some in the trunk over there," Rhaenys skipped over to the trunk, which looked like it had been made out of driftwood. "I haven’t found any others, but I can’t get into the top shelf of the desk, and there might be a secret shelf somewhere."

Lily nodded. “Thank you, that’s very helpful.” Then she grinned, a bit wickedly. “Now, let’s clean you up before your parents realize you were where you shouldn’t be.”

She tapped Rhaenys on the head with her wand, and the dust vanished. 

"Our secret, yeah?"

Rhaenys nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

She didn’t mention it to Sarella later, though she kind of wished she had when Lily and her husband died a few weeks later, and Harry lived. She had a feeling what happened was connected to the witch’s investigations in Bloodraven’s old workshop, but maybe not. 

She was never entirely sure, and she probably wouldn't find out until she was dead herself and could ask, she decided.


	2. Tangled Webs

Rhaegar Targaryen liked to think he was in complete control of everything in Dragonstone, including his family. His wife, when she realized he thought this, had laughed herself sick. 

His daughter had raised an eyebrow and filed that fact away for later, as well as her mother's amusement.

This was why his daughter had been placed in Slytherin House very quickly, and why Rhaegar had been placed in Ravenclaw with a sigh.

It came in handy when Rhaenys came home from Hogwarts after her fifth year. Her father was pestering her about what classes she would need to take for sixth year. Her mother was watching Rhaenys carefully. Aegon, having been sent to Gryffindor without a thought, was carefully avoiding everyone since he couldn’t lie for Chocolate Frogs. 

"Healing is a respectable profession…" Rhaegar admitted, and Elia smiled in a very… viper-ish fashion, he thought uneasily. It was made worse by Oberyn’s expression. (He wasn’t quite sure how his brother in law had managed to get into Dragonstone this morning, or why. He'd merely smiled at Rhaegar's questions, and launched into a new story about his youngest daughter's milestones.

"Does she need Transfiguration for that?" Elia asked mildly, causing her daughter to flush a dark brick color. Rhaenys’ complete inability to do Transfiguration had quickly become legend, after a murderous lizard had tried to bite one of her classmates. (It would not have been _quite_ so bad if she hadn’t been trying to make a teacup into a journal.)

"I was actually hoping to go to school with Tyene and Arianne next year," Rhaenys said as she grabbed the Nutella her cousins had brought by. There was something very careless in how she said it, as if there wouldn’t be any other possible option.

Rhaegar just… stopped, for a moment, ignoring his wife’s look of amusement. “Why?”

"Because I would like to sleep in a bed without checking if my yearmates have tried to poison, hex, or otherwise hurt me?" she mused, adding sugar to her drink. "Especially as the head of house refuses to do anything."

"Surely Dumbledore could make accommodations if we forced the issue," Rhaegar offered, trying not to fiddle with his cuffs- he was as fastidious as a cat, and there was the inevitable but unfortunate traces of butter and crumbs on his fingers.

"One of my OWLs examiners called me a horrible name and said I would never get anywhere," she added, something mock-hurt in her tone covering a very real venom. "For Potions, actually, which I will not get any sort of exemption from, thanks to Snape." She tilted her head. "I'm sorry, I'm meant to call him Professor Snape." 

The growl made him look around before realizing it came from his own throat.

Oberyn looked approving, which… dammit, she was his first-born. Protecting his trouble-magnet of a daughter was instinct. But Oberyn’s approval wasn’t exactly something he aimed for.

"Professor Flitwick was willing to work around whatever my OWLs results were, but he admitted I would be stuck to experimental work, which…" she wrinkled her nose. "Papa, I respect what you do, but I actually  _like_  people.”

Elia let out a snicker at that. He frowned at her.

"And I have kept up with my muggle studies as much as I could, so I wouldn’t be far behind, I promise," she added, eyes wide. "Sarella promised to help me. And it isn’t as if Aegon isn’t taking to Hogwarts perfectly, and I’m not. I’ve tried, really, but I’m not meant for it."

He opened his mouth to protest.

"It’s holding me back," she added, and he sighed at that final, perfectly placed barb.

"All right," he conceded, as Aegon slunk into the room, looking around nervously. 

Rhaenys smiled a marmalade-tinted smile, and he wondered if he’d been had.

Well, he reflected, she probably hadn’t lied to him. Just structured the truth to create a better argument. She wasn’t one to complain without need, he’d told Elia later. Elia had laughed and told him that while he was right, Rhaenys also had him entirely wrapped around her finger.

Which was probably true.


	3. Roots and Lines

Rhaenys glared at the phone. It was whatever past “goddammit, let me sleep” in the morning. The phone was not meant to ring at that time, certainly not from unknown numbers.

"Who is it?" she answered, because if this was a prank, misdial, or drunkdial, she would at least get to curse someone out. 

"Hello, oh wonderous provider of coffee, older sister, and all around magnificent person," came the slightly slurred voice at the other end of the line.

"…Aegon?" Rhaenys sat up, shoving a tangled mess of curls out of her face. "What the hell?"

"Jon and Loras are here as well," Aegon added cheerily.

"Hogwarts doesn’t have phones," Rhaenys felt the need to point out. "It is November, you should be in school,  _why_  are you not in school?” The old clinging panic was pressing on her lungs, the worry that when her family left they might not  _come back_. Dad had gotten her a kitten to cope with the anxiety, but Balerion was too fond of dive bombing people to follow her to university, so he was currently Dany’s charge.

"We wanted an adventure," Aegon said after a moment. "And Loras had a club he wanted to take us to, and Jon wants the phone now, so bye!"

Her baby brother came on the line, sounding sheepish. “I was playing babysitter.” Rhaenys could see him ruffling his hair- and the thought came, as they did when one was half asleep, that it was truly bizarre that her half-brother also received a riot of black hair from his mother when Egg was so like Dad in looks. She shook her head as he continued. “Only Egg got in a fight, and Loras backed him up, and then the club owner realized we were underage.”

"By a few months!" Aegon called from the background.

"Over a year in  _someone_ 's case,” Rhaenys pointed out. “So you got picked up by the police, then?” And she was going to murder them all- Mother would be furious, and Dad would be furious that she was furious, plus the Tyrells, and next time Jon should really just Stun them both.

"And we need an adult, though we’re not really being arrested- the man who started it had a record and had something in his pockets, so we got self-defense and just need to be picked up," Jon finished, and Rhaenys wondered if Egg had used charmwork magic, or if Jon’s puppy eyes were just that tragic. Possibly both. "And they can’t call Dragonstone for obvious reasons."

Like the lack of a telephone, Rhaenys finished. “I have an appointment with a client at seven,” she said mournfully. She’d gone to bed two hours ago. “I’ll call Uncle O, though. He has experience with this sort of thing. Where are you?” And no compunctions about using magic to make problems go away. 

He’d also give them a lesson on how to properly evaluate a club, watch their drinks, and get into shenanigans that did not end in poor older sisters getting calls at two in the morning.

"That’s fine," Jon said after a moment. She remembered that her uncles got understandably weird when it came to Jon’s existence. "I was going to call Mum, but she’s been assigned overnights lately, so I didn’t want to bother her."

"She’ll find out anyway," Rhaenys predicted. Because really, unless her brothers found a way to sneak into Hogwarts, they were going to get caught.

~

Will Tyrell was pretty as sin, clever, and had an unexpected talent for off-the-cuff dirty poetry. If he wasn’t entangled off-and-on with Uncle Oberyn and Aunt Ellaria, Rhae probably would have climbed him like a tree. His family, which did not know about the happy threesome times Rhaenys’ brain shied away from, would have been thrilled, which was oddly comforting.

As it was, Rhaenys was content to sneakily record the poetry to show Arianne and Garlan later. (Sarella had corrected his meter, which ruined her enjoyment, because Sarella was right about that.)

Will was currently on the verge of laughing, leaning heavier on his cane than normal and rubbing the corners of his eyes. He settled down into a booth, holding up the menu slightly dubiously. “You called Oberyn to get our brothers out of jail.”

Rhaenys nodded, completely unrepentant. “Did he point out where they went wrong?” She tilted her glass for a moment while she thought about it. Ah. Will had been with them last night. 

Willas grimaced a bit. “Sadly, no. That was a good motive.”

"Well, that and the knowledge that I would be dealing with someone who doesn’t get that I’m not a private detective," Rhaenys said, waiting for the shoe to drop. She’d taken the job anyway, because she needed some experience. And money. "What happened?"

"I didn’t realize that Loras would manage to get in touch with our parents," Will muttered into his hand, looking at her with tragic eyes that didn’t have a patch on Jon. Or Sansa. "We arrived at roughly the same time."

Rhaenys choked on her drink. “Oh,  _fuck_.”

Did Will’s parents even know he was bisexual? The question had never come up. 

Not to mention the fact that Mr. Tyrell loathed Uncle Oberyn. Who was about twenty years older than Will. 

At least Darcy was about the same age, and that had been a brief enough thing.

"That was one of the words being flung around," Will agreed, completely deadpan. The waitress thankfully came to take their order, and Rhaenys had the chance to reboot her brain.

"They didn’t take it well?" Rhaenys asked, hating herself for the guilt in her voice. 

"Dad said I needed better taste in men," he grinned. "Which is probably true, but I enjoy my horrible taste."

"Leave it there, please," Rhaenys did the headtilt that let her cover her face with her hair, because she wanted to start laughing. "And your mother?"

"Said I should have told her earlier, and to tell you she was sorry that you were put in a difficult position for so many years," Will recited. 

"…Difficult position? With the lying or the matchmaking?" She wasn’t sure which. Mrs. Tyrell was kind of amazing, she decided, and she had pushed for Will to tell her, at least. He’d told Garlan, after all. 

"Both," Willas said after a moment. "And how pushing you on me like that forced you to lie more. Then she started in on Loras, so that went about as well as could be expected. Oberyn found it all hilarious, at least."

She sighed. “And now we just have to worry about my parents.”

Will’s reaction was priceless.


	4. And Back Again

Rhaenys had left Hogwarts at fifteen and never looked back.

Well, she wrote Will and Asha. But she’d  _hated_  Hogwarts, the same way that Aegon had loved it. It wasn’t her, the too-Martell Targaryen girl with the too-quick tongue and inability to transfigure anything properly.

She’d studied more than she could have at Hogwarts, muggle languages living and dead, her charmswork magic laying them out like a forest path before her feet. And then there was university, studying and enjoying muggle puzzles of forgery and lies. She was good at it, and it came easily, feeling natural in a way that wizard spells never had.

(Flitwick had been fascinated by her codeswitching, balancing the charmswork that  _sang_  in her mind with the dancing hands of wizard spells. McGonagall… she’d pretty much given up after the mini-Godzilla accident.)

But she’d put it away, furious and frustrated and bleeding and trying to keep Bara from killing smug Professor Snape. And then keeping Asha and Bara from being new best friends, because that was a match made in hell. 

So she’d thrown herself into studying muggle things, getting a degree and working to track down forgeries and was just starting to get her feet under her when the rumors about necromancy and Voldemort started. 

She wanted to  _hide_ , really, because she’d seen what the Death Eaters could do, and she  _wasn’t_  a wanded witch, not truly. 

But you couldn’t make the truth go away by pretending, and her brave, brilliant, completely mad brothers were going to be fighting, so someone needed to keep them safe. Plus Lily’s son, who her brothers and Sansa Stark had taken under their wings, and had a target on his back. (Dany, she suspected, was perfectly capable of keeping herself safe, and had a good support system. But her brothers- especially Egg- lacked self-preservation, as the incident with Loras, the fake IDs, and the gay bar proved.)

So Rhaenys tucked away her wand in her coat pocket every day, the old codeswitched spells humming in the back of her mind.


	5. Light My Candle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED 2/3/16
> 
> (For internal consistency and fixing an error on when Harry and Rhaegar first meet.)

It had been Trys’ idea, and Sansa had smiled in that very  _Sansa_  way, and added some thoughts and mentioned that she was very like Jon, and that had decided Harry, in the end.

"Not everyone is willing to admit that the wizards aren’t all there is, even as there are more crosses," Trys shrugged. "Bit short sighted of them, really."

The apartment was tiny and over a bookshop, with small streams of people swirling around the street. Harry hesitated before knocking.

It was almost a relief to see Aegon and Jon's sister standing at the door. He had met her a few times, when he'd been dragged to the Dragonstone Summer Holiday Party, as Sansa had called it with her usual look of exasperation. She was a slight woman with a riot of dark curls like Jon, Trys' dark coloring, and enormous dark eyes like Mrs. Targaryen's that regarded the chaos of a mass of young wizards with wary amusement. Currently, she was also doing one of the best jobs that Harry had ever seen at blending in as a muggle, with a plain purple t-shirt and jeans, but Jon had said she'd lived as a muggle for ages.

"You made it here safely, I see?" she asked, tilting her head and smiling. "Sorry I couldn't fetch you myself, there are a few other people I had to ride herd on, but I think you won’t mind." She pulled a face, and the resemblance to Jon made Harry’s eyes go wide for a moment. "Will Tyrell- Loras and Marg’s eldest brother, or Elinor’s cousin, depending on which you know best- is here, and he kind of went overboard."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked, a bit warily. She beamed.

 _There_  was the resemblance to Aegon. Both were completely mad.

"Oh, good, Sansa said you were suspicious, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up," she led him in. "Aunt Ellaria for sanity’s sake, Uncle Oberyn because he fusses in his own special way, Madam Bones because she’s Will’s boss and wants to take an official statement, My father will be here since he’s the best academic not bound by the Unspeakables and because Mother would murder him if he didn't, cousin Sarella as the cryptid academic, Cat Stark will be here as a healer, since Sansa tells her mum everything, and an old friend who might know something we don’t," she gave him a considering look. "I did talk Will out of his idea of trying to bring more people, promise. He was a bit hungover, so it wasn’t that hard." She shrugged. "I pointed out that it’ll be a bit crowded, but everyone thinks me a bit useless, so…"

He nodded. “Thanks. For…” he waved vaguely around.

"Just because you pretend the bad things aren’t happening, doesn’t mean they go away," she said as they went in, and Harry nearly took a step back at all the people looking intently at him.

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Potter," said the man who looked like a solemn version of Aegon, standing up. (And he understood completely what Shireen had meant when she said Mr. Targaryen usually looked like a fallen angel who disapproved of humanity as a whole. It had always been a bit startling.) 

"It shouldn’t be necessary," said a man with a sharper version of Rhaenys’ eyes, scowling at a woman wearing a monocle. There was a woman with a long-suffering expression on her face sitting close enough she was nearly on his lap, but that didn’t quite match the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. He waved at Ellaria and Sarella. Sarella looked up from her notebook and waved absently.

"I can’t help it if someone needed to control the near-riot we had on our hands," the woman with the monocle- probably Madam Bones said grouchily. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say some elements of the crowd were deliberately stirring up trouble."

"I wouldn’t bet against it," said someone who  _had_  to be Margaery Tyrell’s brother. “Crouch probably had it set up- either as himself or as a favor to Moody.” Someone who had to be Sarella nodded at that, flicking open a muggle notebook.

"If Alastor Moody asked it, a lot of people would listen without hesitation, whatever the Ministry and Prophet have said about him," Mrs. Stark agreed, a slight smile on her face. "Or perhaps because of it. I think Alastor has enjoyed that reputation and the leeway it gives him a bit more than he would be willing to admit."

"Probably," Rhaenys agreed. "Now, can we let the boy speak? I really don’t want a disapproving headmaster of a school I didn’t graduate coming to visit me."

"There isn’t exactly a good deal of room," agreed the last man. Tall and with a wide white streak through his red hair, he had managed to silence the muttering with his words. He waved at the last open seat. "Sit down, Mr. Potter, I’ve seen our little hellcat perch herself on much odder surfaces than a kitchen counter."

"Shut it, Jason," their hostess said, rolling her eyes. "You’re here for a good reason and you know it."

He stared at Harry for a moment, leaving the boy feeling a bit dizzy, then nodded. “Yes, a very good reason.”

Mr. Targaryen shut his eyes and pinched his nose. “Lily is going to come back and haunt me, isn’t she?” Oberyn snorted and muttered something that Harry knew was rude in Arabic.

"Only if we let it reach it’s logical conclusion," Jason said as Rhaenys levered herself on the counter and motioned for Harry to sit.

Harry looked at them all, then decided telling Rhaenys the story directly would be easiest. She was a lot like a mix between Aegon and Sansa, he thought, and they were easy to talk to. He'd switch to Mrs. Stark if he needed to. “Where should I start?”

"Quirrell would be a good starting point," Mr. Targaryen said after a moment. "I’ve only got sketchy details from my sons."

Mrs. Stark agreed. “Sansa and Arya praised you to the skies, especially after saving Ginny, but I would like the details. Sansa has a tendency to dance around the truth to avoid trouble.”

He nodded jerkily and decided that would be easy enough, and started explaining everything, only pausing when someone asked him questions- usually Madam Bones or Mr. Targaryen, though the Tyrell brother paused him once when he mentioned Lockhart and the memory charms, and Ellaria managed to steer around the subject of how, exactly, Sirius had gotten out of the locked room and guards. Madam Bones didn’t look as if she was fooled, but Mrs. Stark had snorted at Snape’s reaction to Sirius getting away, drawing everyone’s attention. (She’d shaken her head and promised to explain at the end, and Harry was reminded that she was only a bit older than his parents, and had known them quite well.) He’d had to retell the story of the graveyard twice, once without interruptions at Mr. Martell’s command, and once where they interrupted him at every point to ask questions. 

(Madam Bones had smiled, briefly and fiercely, when Harry had explained about Rita Skeeter being an unregistered animagus.)

When he’d finished with the Minister’s reaction to Harry’s warnings about Voldemort and what Dumbledore had said, they had all looked at each other.

"Well, that matches with Fudge’s emergency meeting tactics," Bones said mournfully. "I wonder if we could turn public opinion on our side- surreptitiously, of course."

"Roslin Frey and Jeyne Westerling will write stories for us, but the editor is fully in Fudge and Malfoy’s pocket," Tyrell pointed out. "Unless someone can find a way to buy out the Prophet…"

"Or Rita Skeeter stumbles upon something that sends her into such paroxysms of bitter spiteful glee that she is willing to throw her weight against Fudge’s spin," Rhaenys offered, pulling a tin of biscuits from the shelf and revealing a nasty-looking jagged scar along her side. "She’s been able to piss off the Ministry before."

"Not to that degree," Mrs. Stark sighed. "For all we like to pretend the war ended when Lily banished Voldemort, I’m afraid we haven’t come nearly as far as we like to pretend. She knows that pressing too far will end badly for her. Going against Arthur Weasley or a tolerant soul like Dumbledore is one thing, but revealing the depth of the cover-up against poor Sirius will end badly for everyone, and Skeeter knows that Malfoy is nearly untouchable, and that she will be the first to vanish if she tries it."

"Bullies need to be good at judging their targets," Rhaenys conceded.

"I’m far more worried about Delores Umbridge," Madam Bones took out her monocle. "That woman is ruthless and quite capable of the most  _appalling_  self-justification I have ever heard.”

"Tactless as hell, too," Willas, that was his name, muttered. "All but said we should be happy if Riddle comes back."

"So we’ll need to deal with those problems," Mr. Targaryen said finally. "Sarella, do you think you can get the appropriate permissions for your research?"

"Yes Uncle," Sarella said absently, looking at her notes. "No problems there. Blood?"

Jason nodded slowly. “Give me a few days, and I can manage what we need.”

"So… we keep this all super-secret, right?" Rhaenys asked, grinning at the looks she was given. "Also, does anyone want actual food?"

Sarella looked regretful as she shook her head, and Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the careful look Mr. Targaryen was sending Jason.

"I would," the redheaded man said, looking amused. Madam Bones and Mrs. Stark were standing up, giving their regrets. "And it might be best if we kept Mr. Potter for a few hours- I’d like to ask a few more questions."

"Take-out it is," Rhaenys pulled out a stack of menus bundled with a rubber band, tossing them at Harry. "Harry, what would you like? Don’t worry about being missed, I handled it already."

"Date night," Ellaria said brightly, pulling along Willas and Mr. Martell. "I’ll see you later."

"Could you watch the dog for a few hours?" Mr. Targaryen asked, sweeping his wand absently around the kitchen and moving outwards. 

Rhaenys laughed. “Of course. Send him over.” She winked at Harry, who realized who, precisely, they were talking about and couldn’t hold back his hope. “Mum insisted on dragging this stray dog home over objections- he can’t very well feed himself, and he was in the most awful condition, she pointed out, and Mum always gets her way, so… she got a giant dog. Dad isn't as fond of him as all that, so I play keeper a lot.”

Maybe things weren’t going to be as bad as this summer had seemed right after the Third Task, Harry mused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:Jason Blood is from DC comics, he just kind of showed up. Catelyn’s snort was both to distract Madam Bones from asking too much and because she and Lysa knew Lily and Snape, know the story, and, as of the Prince’s Tale, it’s pretty heavily hinted that Snape might have known “Hey, werewolf” when he went to the Shack, Lily knew his theories, and probably pieced together what happened, even if no one told her the details. ( I guesstimate Cat as ~33/34 when GoT opens, so she’d be two or three years older, and Lysa in the same year.)
> 
> Also, by “not missed”, she means Elia, Moody, and Tonks rearranged the guard schedule so no one would notice. Tonks and Rhaenys are the same age, and Rhaenys has friends with the Tyrells and Renly Baratheon.


End file.
